


Maybe I’ve Been Missing What It’s About

by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Developing Friendships, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hogwarts First Year, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-08 18:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16434452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee/pseuds/DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee
Summary: “So,” Lily says pragmatically, letting go of Sev’s hand and hooking an arm through his elbow instead, offering one to Remus, who tentatively takes it, “We have a plan. No matter what happens, we stick together.”“What are you lot still doing here?” Sirius sticks his head back into the hall.“There’s a feast on, you know!” James says right behind him, “Get moving, we’re not leaving you on the train all night!”What if Severus Snape made different friends on the train to Hogwarts at the beginning of his first year?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was re-watching 'Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone' to celebrate Hallow-Weekend and going through old notes on my computer and stumbled across one reading 'WHAT IF SNAPE WAS THE FOURTH MARAUDER INSTEAD OF PETER' and really, how could I resist *that*???
> 
> There may be more of this if anyone's interested :)

**Maybe I’ve Been Missing What It’s About**

**Remus.**

Remus would always remember that first meeting on the train. Even years, decades later he could look back, just like looking over his shoulder and to the left, and there it was: that first day on the Hogwarts Express, off to school. And there he was, a small, shabby, unwanted boy, hiding in an empty compartment, stomach tying itself in knots as excitement warred with dread. And then, as the train started moving, the door slid open and the book Remus had opened slid out of his hands as he jumped in surprise. He looked up and found himself meeting the shadowed eyes of a boy who, if anything, looked even smaller, shabbier, and less wanted than Remus did. Black, bedraggled, too-long hair hung in a pale face, drooping in greasy tendrils over dark eyes rimmed in purple shadows. His black school robes didn’t fit right, or maybe he didn’t fit them right. The dark folds hung awkwardly on his skinny frame, patched in places and worn to a faded charcoal grey in others. A bulky, scuffed leather trunk sat at his side and he clutched a handful of books and a bundle of what looked like muggle clothing to his chest.

Remus wondered irrationally for a moment if there was another werewolf coming to Hogwarts. Then he reminded himself that just because someone appeared to be plagued by some kind of misfortune that did not mean it was the same misfortune as his own.

"I was looking for a friend," the strange boy began uneasily, "but I can't find her."

Remus blinked at him, not sure what to say, how to behave around this, another child his own age. He'd been kept away from other children since he was bitten, sequestered, quarantined. In his stranger moments he sometimes wondered if children even spoke the same language as the adults he was surrounded by.

(It would appear - judging by this boy's words - they did speak the same language, which was an immense relief).

"D'you want to stay here?" Remus asked, careful to restrain the hope in his voice. "And see if your friend finds you?"

The boy nodded jerkily, apparently as awkward as Remus felt. That was a relief.

The boy shuffled in, settling his (meager) possessions on the top rack and his (skinny) body on the seat. Before he got comfortable, though, he caught sight of the book Remus had dropped on the floor.

"You're reading _The Chronicles of Narnia_?" he asked, peering down at the book.

Remus picked it up, flushing hotly. "I know they're muggle books," he said defensively, "but I like them. And who knows, maybe there is a Narnia, maybe there is a door, maybe it's all true we just haven't figured out how to get to it."

The other boy blinked at him. "I've read them."

"What?"

"Are you thick-headed? That would be disappointing. I said I've read them."

"Oh."

"Yeah. They're good."

"Which one's your favorite?"

" _The Horse and His Boy_."

"Mine too!"

The other boy narrowed his eyes at him, "are you just saying that? If so it’s not a very practical deception."

"No, it's my favorite. It's all about redemption, and what's on the surface not being all that's there, y'know."

"I think it's about family."

"Yeah?"

"All the characters are people who don't fit, right? They don't belong, they aren't wanted, or who they are isn't who the people around them want - so they leave. And they find other people, better people, in other, better places. And then they do fit, and they are wanted. They have a family, they've..." He made a vague gesture, "come home," he finished awkwardly, then hunched into himself, saying "Sorry."

But Remus was grinning. "No, that was _brilliant_. I'm Remus."

"Severus."

"I think we're going to be friends, Severus," Remus said with the supreme confidence of the truly determined. Then, slightly less sure, he offered, "I've got the rest of the books. If you want to read them with me. While you wait for your friend to find you."

"Yeah, yeah, that'd be good."

Remus risks a small smile and offers him a worn copy of _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe._ Severus doesn’t completely smile, but he does take the book, lips twitching up into something approximating a smile.

…

**Sirius.**

Sirius is in trouble. Big, major trouble and he is completely unrepentant. Laughing like a madman, he whirls down the train aisle, flings open a compartment door and hurls himself inside, all flying feet and gangly legs. He crash-lands on what must be another person because he hears a displeased huff and the sensation of two hands planted firmly on his back before he’s flying through the air again, tossed off of the lap he’d face-planted into and onto a much less forgiving, but far more welcoming, floor.

         He rolls onto his back, a manic grin on his lips and a wild laugh in his throat, to see a pair of bedraggled boys peering down at him with identical frowns on their pale-shadowed faces.

         “Who the bloody hell are you?” snaps the one with greasy dark hair and pale skim-milk skin.

         “Who the bloody hell are _you_?” Sirius parrots back insouciantly, rolling up into a sitting position and dusting off his brand-new black school robes. How his mother would _shriek_ to know he’s gotten his robes into a dusty mess before even crossing the Hogwarts threshold.

         That just makes the pale greasy boy frown harder and the other boy shrink back shyly. He reminds Sirius of sawdust or maybe leaf litter in a forest after autumn has come and gone but winter hasn’t had the manners to turn up yet and hide the trees’ sad brown shame.  He’s sort of leafy brown all over from his sandy-brown skin to his woody brown hair and strange, sad hazel eyes.

         “ _We_ were already sitting here,” the pale boy curls his lip in a manner that might have been imperious coming from Sirius’ cousin Narcissa but just looks sullen and shrinking from this creature.

         “Well I’m Sirius Black and I need a place to hide if that’s alright with you chaps.” Sirius tries for a winning smile. Pale face looks unimpressed. Forest boy just looks wary, like Sirius’s charming smile and perfect teeth are weapons that could be turned on him at him any moment.

         Pale face makes a noise between a scoff and a sneer and a harrumph like Sirius is a dog digging up his lawn, and goes back to his book. The pictures on the cover don’t even move, meaning it’s probably a muggle book and Sirius files that away for later investigation.

         “Remus Lupin,” mumbles the other boy, slinking back into his seat and casting glances across the compartment like he’s wondering if he wouldn’t be safer on the other side with his grumpy friend.

         “Huh?” Sirius tilts his head to the side.

         “My name. I’m Remus Lupin and you can stay,” Lupin says in a burst of unexpected confidence before subsiding and hiding behind his own book.

         Also a muggle book. Curiouser and curiouser. Sirius is pretty sure his mother would faint dead away if she knew he was here.

         “Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here, sitting on your floor?” Sirius demands when it looks like both boys are back to their book club.

         “Why are you here, sitting on our floor?” drawls the dark-haired, unnamed one in such a tone of complete disinterest Sirius is a little offended.

         “I snuck a chocolate frog into my cousin Narcissa’s luggage,” Sirius declares proudly, “Then transfigured it into a real frog when she opened her bag.”

         Her screams were bloody _brilliant_ they were.

         “On your own?” the dark-haired boy seems skeptical or impressed. It’s hard to tell.

         “With some help,” Sirius admits. He’s not so ungenerous as to not give credit where credit’s due. Although Potter, that git, go distracted arguing with that red-headed girl and totally missed Narcissa’s reaction, which was the whole point of exercise, really.

“Hmm,” the dark-haired boy says and Sirius feels like he’s being judged.

“Hey, transfiguration like that’s third or second year level at least! We’re not even officially first years yet!”

The dark-haired boy shrugs, “Sure.” He agrees easily and Sirius gapes. How dare he not be impressed?

“Do you want to sit with us or not?” the dark haired boy finally asks after a long moment.

         Sirius almost says ‘no’ just to be difficult. He doesn’t, but it’s close. Instead he shuts his mouth and pointedly slumps in the seat next to Remus Lupin, the quieter shabby boy. “Yes,” he finally mutters mulishly.

         The dark haired boy shrugs like it’s not skin off his nose if Sirius chooses to stay or not.

         Sirius frowns and is considering reading over Remus’ shoulder when staring at the dark haired boy gets too boring.

         “Severus Snape,” the dark haired boy says without looking up.

         “Huh?” is Sirius’ eloquent response.

         “My name.” And that is apparently that because he pointedly turns a page and continues ignoring Sirius’ existence.

         Sirius catches sight of Remus Lupin wearing a tiny happy smile right next to him before nudging a worn muggle paperback into his hands.

         Not knowing what else to do, Sirius opens the book and starts to read.

…

**James.**

         James Potter is having the time of his young life. He missed out on Sirius’ rather epic prank on Narcissa but it was totally and completely worth it just to see Lily Evan’s face go pink, then white, then red with rage as they debated magical ethics.

         She’s still following him, ranting about misusing magical gifts when he locates the compartment Sirius ducked into as he fled Narcissa’s wrath, flings the door open and grandly marches in.

         “Hello Sirius, old chap, I see Narcissa failed to claw your eyeballs out of your skull yet again.”

         He’s admittedly a little taken aback to find a room full of people - If a room containing two shabby boys and Sirius Black can be said to be ‘full of people’ – quietly reading. James is pretty sure he’s never seen Sirius do anything quiet ever. And they grew up together. Sirius can’t even sleep quietly. He fidgets too much. He once gave James a black eye at a sleepover when they were eight.

         And admittedly, Sirius isn’t exactly reading peaceably. He’s sitting upside down, careless of his nice new robes, his feet propped up against the wall and paging absently through a muggle paperback while spinning a coin through his fingers.

         “We aren’t finished talking!” Lily Evans snaps behind him – oh, right, he’s sort of taking up the whole doorway with his whole body.

         “Oi, Potter, can’t you see, this is the quiet compartment, don’t be bloody rude,” Sirius says with a grin, flipping himself upright.

         James has a brilliant comeback on the tip of his tongue, but he’s interrupted by the darker-haired shabby boy looking up from his book and saying “Lily, is that you?”

         “Sev!” Lily’s voice noticeably brightens and James does not feel jealous, not at all. He was quite enjoying making her turn red as her hair, he doesn’t need or want her to sound that chipper and pleased to see – well, _hear_ , as he’s still blocking the door – him.

         “I’ve been looking all over for you,” she continues, trying to shove past James, “Oh move your fat head, Potter,” she huffs as she tries and fails to get him out of the way.

         Sirius whistles like this is the height of wit, “Yeah, move your fat head, Potter!”

         “Don’t mock me,” Lily says crisply, “I’ve gotten quite enough of that from your friend here.”

         “Was he bothering you, Lily?” the shabby boy – presumably named ‘Sev’ questions, looking rather like he’ll pull out a wand and deal with James himself if necessary.

         James is a little affronted.

         “I wasn’t mocking you – ” James tries and fails to defend himself.

         “Oh, so rudeness is a form of pleasantry among wizards, then?” Lily, finally working her way into the compartment, folds her arms and whirls on him, red brains lashing behind her.

         “Only for the snobs,” mutters Sev.

         “Be nice, Sev,” she chides.

         “Hypocrite,” he tugs gently on one of her braids and subsides.

         She rolls her eyes extravagantly, “I still think turning inanimate objects into unsuspecting living things is grotesque! You can’t just…create life like that. It has to come from somewhere! What if you’re just…body-swapping a real frog with a chocolate one! What if that frog has a wife and tadpoles and now all they’ve got is some dinky magic trick in place of their father!”

         “You’ve put way too much thought into this,” mutters Sev.

         “Sev!” Lily says in a way that clearly says ‘back me up, you useless lump’.

         “That’s not – it’s _transfiguration”_ – James fumbles, “that means you _transfigure_ something.”

         “BUT WHERE DID THE LIVING BIT COME FROM?” Lily demands.

         “Crikey, she’s into advanced magical theory.” Sirius gives him a sympathetic look, “Godspeed, mate.”

         “It’s actually a rather interesting idea,” the other shabby boy, who James had really almost forgotten about, says ever-so-quietly into the cacophony.

         Lily brightens up _instantly_ , “Isn’t it just?” she says and settles in next to him without so much as a by-your-leave. Sandwiched between Sirius and Lily, the shabby boy looks downright overwhelmed. James expects him to go into cardiac arrest any minute.

         The other shabby boy, catching sight of his companion’s panicked look, just shrugs like ‘what are you going to do, they’re forces of nature’. James flops down next to him, as there clearly wasn’t any space left for him on the other side of the compartment.

         As the shabby boy and Lily launch into some sort of overly technical discussion James can’t follow, James nudges Sev. “So, you’re Sev?”

         “Severus Snape.”

         “James Potter,” James sticks out his hand because sometimes his mother’s teachings sink in.

         Severus Snape stares at it like he’s not sure what James was thinking offering him his sweaty, sticky, eleven-year-old hand. But he takes it gingerly and shakes.

         “First time on the Hogwarts Express?” James asks because he, unlike Sirius, remembers how small talk works.

         “Yes.”

         “Me too!”

         Severus nods like he’s not sure why James is still talking to him.

         James doesn’t believe in awkward silences so he launches into a breakdown of the epic and ongoing prank war between Narcissa and Sirius Black and how Sirius is definitely going to get it now. (Sirius lacks finesse and subtlety, where Narcissa has it in spades and is perfectly willing to wait as long as necessary to execute the perfectly planned revenge). It’s really rather fortunate James got distracted by Lily, or he’d be in the line of fire too.

         Severus listens with a kind of bemused patience like he’s not entirely sure why James is talking to him, but he’s willing to let it continue happening out of pure surprise.

         Lily interrupts James’ monologue with a bright laugh that has both James and Severus swiveling to face the trio on the other side of the compartment.

         Lily senses their attention and sends them a sunny smile, “Sev, you’ve made such interesting friends!”

         Severus’ mouth actually drops open at the statement and he blinks several times in rapid succession like he’s not entirely sure what to do with the statement – which seems to be a theme here.

         “Um. They’re – ” Severus stumbles.

         “Oh I suppose we’re friends now,” Sirius says with a playfully put-upon eye-roll. “They did shelter me from Narcissa’s wrath after all, I suppose that means I owe them a life-debt or something.”

         “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” the other shabby boy says in a burst of boldness, a little disbelieving smile crinkling the corners of his eyes like he can’t quite fathom how he’s being so daring as to make a joke.

         “And he speaks!” Sirius cries triumphantly, “Well, to me, at least. He’s been chattering away to Lily here, and I think he and Snape have some sort of bookworm mind-meld going on.”

         “You watch _Star Trek_?” Lily and Severus say at almost the exact same time.

         “Star what?” James asks.

         “It’s a television program,” Lily tries to explain, “From America – ”

         “Wait, what’s television?” Sirius interrupts.

         “Isn’t the muggle kind of moving pictures?” James, who has not been kept in the pureblood dark ages that is the Black house, is a little proud to throw out that bit of knowledge.

         Until Sev and Lily give him identical looks of disbelief and Lily tries to gently explain how no, it’s not exactly like that…

         James trades a glance with Sirius and just settles in to be educated.

…

**Lily.**

They’re unloading from the train, Sirius and James having surged ahead to bound onto the platform, Remus lingering behind to collect his baggage with a gentle smile and assurances he’d meet them in the Great Hall.

         Lily stands at Severus’ side and takes his hand like she would when they were little children.

         “You made friends on the train.” She’s so proud of him, but she doesn’t know how to put it into words without sounding patronizing.

         “I suppose,” he says dryly, like friendships are such a burden.

         She squeezes his hand, “You made _friends_. They want to see you again.”

         He gives her a look and she sees a flicker of the sad and lonely boy she first saw lurking in the shadows at a muggle playground. When he says “Really?” all dry and cynical most people would huff and shrug it off.

         She squeezes his hand again, “Really- _really_.” 

         “They’ll be in Gryffindor,” he points out.

         “So?”

         “So, I’ll be Slytherin.”

         “How do you know?”

         Severus shrugs, “I just know. Gryffindor is for the brave and occasionally terminally stupid, Ravenclaw is for the absentminded professors, Hufflepuff is for the self-destructively loyal, and Slytherin is for the selfishly ambitious.”

         “Wow, what a way to look at things,” she rolls her eyes. “You know, ambition doesn’t have to be selfish or destructive.”

         Severus snorts, “Of course not, look at my mother.”

         “Sev,” she jostles his arm, trying to shake him out of his dark mood. “You can be anyone you want here, you know? You can want things and you can get them. Good things.”

         “I don’t care,” a soft voice interrupt Severus’ retreat inside his head.

         They both turn, and Lily sees Remus appearing out of the compartment behind them, his bags in hand. “I don’t care what house you’re in.” He stares at the carpet, a shock of dark hair drifting over his eyes as he scuffs a toe against the doorframe. “No one’s wanted to be my friend in a long time. You’re the first.”

         Lily smiles at him warmly. She wants to reach out and hug him but she can’t let go of Sev yet. She wants to shake Sev and say _‘See, SEE?_ ’ but she doesn’t do that either.

         “Lily was the first,” Sev says, “For me.”

         Remus nods, “I don’t know what house I’ll be in. I don’t really know if I’d be really loyal because I haven’t had enough experience,” a profoundly sad look flickers across his face, “and I don’t really want anything other than…some stuff I can’t talk about. And I don’t really care about academics and puzzles more than anything else like Ravenclaws should. I don’t think I’m brave, I’m just…” a shrug, “Resilient, I guess,” a weak, self-deprecating smile, “Maybe they won’t know where to put me. Maybe I’ll make my own house.”

         “We can set up shop in the Shrieking Shack,” Lily says boldly, “We’ll be our own house, you, me, Sev, and maybe Sirius and James.”   
         “If Narcissa doesn’t kill them first.” Sev mutters, resurfacing from his dark mood.

         “So,” Lily says pragmatically, letting go of Sev’s hand and hooking an arm through his elbow instead, offering one to Remus, who tentatively takes it, “We have a plan. No matter what happens, we stick together.”

         “What are you lot still _doing_ here?” Sirius sticks his head back into the hall.

         “There’s a feast on, you know!” James says right behind him, “Get moving, we’re not leaving you on the train all night!”

         And, grinning, Lily Evans escorts Remus and Severus to meet their new friends for whatever the Sorting will bring.  

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sorting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge THANK YOU to everyone that left reviews for the first part! This AU wouldn't leave me alone, so I bring you a little follow-up to the train chapter. Any chapters after this will probably be timestamps from this 'verse as I have many complex head canons about how Sev being a Marauder changes EVERYTHING. 
> 
> Unedited, because I've been sick for two weeks and can't find it in me to care, lol. 
> 
> Please review! Your kind words keep me going!
> 
> Content warning for vague discussions of child abuse, as Sev's father is canonically rather terrible and Sirius' mother isn't much better.

The line is long and Severus is near the back of it when it comes time to be sorted. They creep forward, one sweaty-handed eleven-year-old at a time, each waiting for their turn to sit on the rickety wooden stool and have a smelly old hat pronounce their future. Snape watches as the line creeps forward. He and Lily are of course separated. She’s up with the Es, behind Sirius and before Remus. James is closest, and even that is relative, seeing as there’s a bit of distance between the Ps and Snape all the way back in the ‘S’ section.

            Lily stands tall, her chin lifted, red head held high.

            Sirius fidgets and Severus thinks of the way he’d tried to joke about the Sorting coming in.

_“If I’m not in Slyherin I’ll probably get a Howler from my mother demanding I fling myself in the lake or waste away from shame or something equally dramatic.”_

_“You? Dramatic? Never,” James teased, but the tension around his eyes didn’t match his light tone, and his hand when it reached over to his friend’s shoulder tightened far more than it should if only offering a friendly slap. This was a touch to comfort and ground, not to jolly along._

“Sirius Black,” Professor McGonagall calls from his list.

Sirius steps up.  He looks a little pale and shaky and Severus can’t help but think of their conversation outside the castle.

Severus had nudged Sirius’ shoulder, not quite as easy in the friendly gesture as James had been, but trying. Trying.

_“My mum was in Slytherin. Can’t be that bad.”_

_Sirius shuddered. “_ My _mum was in Slytherin. And I can assure you, it can be that bad.”_

_Severus gave him a questioning look. He’d only ever heard stories about Hogwarts when his father was out of the house, in hushed tones over a simmer pot of something that would eventually become dinner. Cooking potions on their stove was a good way to catch hell – and Mr. Snape sr.’s fists._

_“My parents believe in this thing called ‘blood purity’, this whole idea that wizards are better than muggles, and any wizard with any muggle in them is no good, nastiness ad nauseam.”_

_“My muggle dad’s pretty horrid. I could almost believe it,” Sev muttered, the words slipping out bitter and darker than he intended._

_Sirius was pale and drawn those, “Don’t say that, don’t ever say that shit. Because it’s shit and it’s cruel and it’s wrong. I’m sick of it.”_

_“Okay,” Sev said because he could almost understand it. His life was a funhouse mirror image of Sirius’. Where Sirius’ parents tried to beat the their hatred for muggles into him, Severus’ father tried to beat his hatred to Sev’s and his mother’s ‘witchy tricks’ into him._

_A pause and then, “Lily’s parents are pretty alright. They’re muggles. They have me over when I need a place to stay.” A couch to sleep on when his father had bent the world into a drunken blur and taken it into his head to break everything he could get his hands around._

_“That’s nice. Maybe you can show me a tv sometime,” Sirius offered, then, more quietly, “James’ parents have me over sometimes. When I need to be away.”_

_“To rotten parents.” Severus made a vague toasting gesture._

_“And rotten luck,” Sirius seconded._

            Severus hopes Sirius gets his wish and gets away from his parents’ legacy. Because it doesn’t matter if he fits the bill for the house or not, he can be the wiliest, most ambitious and cunning bastard in the world and he’d still be miserable.

            Sev shouldn’t have worried. The hat barely kisses Sirius’ hair before it’s bellowing out a resounding “GRYFFINDOR” and Sirius is being hustled off to his new home, slack-jawed with astonishment and hesitant pleasure and pride.

            Lily is next. The hat sits with her for a long while, mumbling and murmuring to itself. Severus dredges up his mother’s descriptions of the houses and compares them to the hat’s own jaunty song at the beginning of the process. Gryffindor for the brave and the bold, Hufflepuff for the loyal and true, Raveclaw for those who wish to know it all, Slytherin for those who think they already do. A catchy rhyme, but rather useless in practice.

            Severus wants Lily to be in his house. But he knows she’s different than he is. She’s a bright comet, a shooting star, relentless and unafraid of any obstacle. She doesn’t want to accomplish or achieve things, she wants to do them for the simple pleasure of the experience. Sev wants things. Burns for meaning, for something of significance to tack on the end of his name so he can say “LOOK, I MEANT SOMETHING, I WASN’T WORTHLESS AFTER ALL.”

            Severus wonders which of them is the better person.

            The hat hums and haws, and considers. Severus can imagine what’s going through its cloth head. Lily is loyal – to him, to he three boys from the train, she loves instantly and with her whole heart. She’d be magnificent in Hufflepuff. But she’s also dastardly clever and has an intuition for magic. She’s be a lovely Ravenclaw too. But Severus can see it coming. The writing was on the wall. He remembers watching her on the swing set, flying higher and higher and higher just to touch the sky.

            “GRYFFINDOR” the hat bellows and Sev mouths “I told you so,” behind it.

            Lily blinks, slightly surprised, but shoots a smile at Sirius, who wolf-whistled the minute the hat made its decision.  She gives Sev a different smile, a soft little encouraging, ‘chin-up’ sort of gesture.

            Sev shakes his head and tries not to look sullen about watching his best (only?) friend walk away from him.

            Strange students file forward and Sev can’t really bring himself to care about them. The only people he’s focused on are Lily and the trio from the train.

            Remus is next and the Hat nearly unravels itself over whatever conundrum’s in his head, but finally says, in an ‘oh all right’ tone “GRYFFINDOR!” and shoos Remus on his way. He’s welcomed with hugs and backslaps from Sirius and a tight embrace from Lily.

            Before James there’s another boy. Small, round, slightly greasy in a way that’s probably more nerves than Sev’s general unkempt-ness. McGonagall calls him “Peter Pettigrew” and Severus isn’t sure why, but he hates him instantly. He reminds Sev of the creeping, sneaking mice he’d chase out of the cupboards periodically at his dad’s dump of a house. The way they’d skitter and shriek and look pathetic right up until they sank their teeth into Severus’ hands or ankles. Sev’s a survivor. He’s weathered plenty of storms. He has no patience for the creeping-sneaking sort. He never could respect a rat.

            Pettigrew approaches the hat the one might approach a poisonous snake. Like it might bite at any moment.

            The hat hems and haws on his head a bit, mumbling to itself restlessly before finally heaving a sigh that crumples the fabric, wrinkling the cloth in an explosion of crinkles and creases. “GRYFFINDOR!” it finally declares with a strange air of resignation like it’s making the best choice possible out of a narrow list of options. Which, really, is what the Sorting is at its heart.

            Pettigrew smiles and eases off the stool, by all appearances quite happy to be rid of the hat.

            James bounds up the steps next, making up for all of Pettigrew’s awkwardness with his own over the top exuberance.

            The hat barely brushes his hair before bellowing “GRYFFINDOR!” and sending him on his way.

            Well, that was that, then. Sev could feel dread solidifying into a cold stone in his stomach as he watched every friend he could have, might have had, trickle away. He watched the remaining eleven-year-olds file up to the dais one by one ahead of him. And finally, it was his turn.

            “Severus Snape,” McGonagall called and his head darted up. He found himself unconsciously scanning the crowd of black student robes clustered around the Gryffindor table for a familiar head of dark red hair.

            Lily caught his gaze and waved just as he reached the stool and the waiting hat.

            “Severus Snape,” the hat murmured meditatively in his ear, “I remember your mother. Prince, her name was. Very talented. Very bright. You’re a lot like her, you know.”

            _‘I don’t want to be anything like her,’_ Sev thinks, the image burned into his mind of his mother, the thin, quaking creature his father had turned her into. The way she’d hidden all her magic things, her moving photos, her school prizes, even her wand, under loose floorboards in that cold and drafty house. How fearful and frail she’d been for all those ugly years.

            “You’re ambitious. You want more, you’d do well in Slytherin,” the hat whispered.

            Sev couldn’t voice the thoughts burning in the back of his throat, even in the safety of his own head.

            “If they are your friends they will accept you so long as you accept them,” the hat tells him sagely.

            Sev isn’t so sure about that.

            “You would have to be what you are not to fit in Gryffindor. Could you do that to yourself? Rewrite yourself completely to be what you are not?”

            _‘Yes.’_ Sev thinks, reflecting on all the years of making himself smaller, making himself unseen, a shadow in his own house, cringing away from the merest suggestion of his father’s wrath.

            “You are ambitious, cunning, and stronger than you know,” the hat tells him, “If you can hold out against those that would use your petty jealousies and hatreds against you, you could be a force for good in Slytherin house.”

            Sev doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s never in his life been told he could be a force for good anywhere, with anything. His father was always quick to remind him he was good for nothing and no one. That he wasn’t merely unwanted, but actively a problem.

            The hat pauses, as if asking for any objections, then announces, in its booming voice, “SLYTHERIN!”

            Sev is shaking slightly as he leaves the dais, descending down to the Slytherin table in a kind of fog. He doesn’t risk glancing over at the Gryffindor table, sure no one there is looking for him now, despite Lily’s assurances and Remus’ promises on the train. He can already vaguely hear Pettigrew’s nasally voice trying to capture James’ attention.

            He settles into the Slytherin table, where one of the prefects shakes his hand and introduces herself as “Andromeda Black, if you have any questions at all, come find me. Don’t bother Narcissa, she’s in a foul mood since little Sirius snuck a frog into her trunk on the train.”

            Sev feels strangely proud of Sirius then, and oddly proud of himself, like he was a part of it. He catches sight of the girl who must be the famous Narcissa, a coldly beautiful fifth year with a long fall of shining white-blonde hair. She looks a little disheveled, though, like maybe she spent a good hour or so wrestling an enchanted frog.

            He bites back a smirk, and almost cuts a glance back over to the Gryffindor table and the grinning miscreant in question.

            “I see you’ve already met Sirius,” Andromeda remarks, seeing the look on his face and giving his shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll miss him over here, but he definitely belong siwth the rabble-rousers over there. Us Slytherins are much more subtle about our mischief, for one thing.”

            Sev finds himself actually smiling at her then, a sudden strange warmth in his chest at her words, even though the cold stone of doubt and dread still sits heavy in his stomach.

            Andromeda has to leave him to his own devices soon, and the dark, gloomy thoughts begin to creep in again as the rest of the first years are sorted and the feast well and truly begun. He picks at his food, all delicious and beautifully crafted, but rendered tasteless by his low spirits. He doesn’t glance over at the Gryffindor table, his heart can’t take seeing Lily, his only friend, laughing and bright with everyone else.

            He’s frowning down at his entrée when a bread roll hits him between the eyes. He looks up, glowering in its general direction, only to be faced with another bread roll to the face and the sight of Sirius and James waving both arms wildly in the air like a very poor attempt at semaphore. Lily jumped up on her bench, using Remus’ shoulder to balance and cupped her hands around her mouth, shouting “HI, SEV,” in his general direction.

            Severus blinked, utterly gobsmacked, and offered a tentative wave back. This only seemed to excite James and Sirius, who, like a pair of over-enthusiastic puppies, nearly whacked their nearest neighbors (Remus and Pettigrew) in the faces with their flailing limbs.

            “BREAKFAST TOMORROW MORNING?” Lily shouted.

            Sev nodded, still unsure what was even happening.

            “GOOD, MEET HERE AT EIGHT, WE NEED TO COMPARE SCHEDULES!” she declared and sent him first an enthusiastic thumbs-up and then the Vulcan hand sign for ‘live long and prosper’, which seemed to confuse Remus, who imitated it with both hands, beaming when he got it right.

            Sev settled back in to eat his dinner feeling much better about the world in general than he did before. And the next morning, bright and early, there was Lily, declaring “Excellent, looks like we have most classes together, that will make study sessions much easier,” while James and Sirius drowsily shoved cereal into their mouths and Remus nervously folded his own schedule into a perfect paper boat, beaming when Sev enchanted it to bob about in the air like it was actually at sea.

            And for a few moments, all was right in the world.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young Marauders learn Remus' secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii, I'm back!
> 
> THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed! Your kind words lift my spirit and inspire me!
> 
> This is another timestamp for this 'verse featuring the gang learning Remus is a werewolf and Sev being a giant socially awkward NERD. 
> 
> I wrote this in like half an hour on a whim and did not edit anything, so my apologies if it's terrible.

Lily is the first to discover Remus is a werewolf because, unlike the rest of them, she is not burdened with centuries of preconceived notions about what is and isn’t possible in the magical world. She’s the one who takes Remus’ monthly illnesses, a lunar calendar, and the sudden surge in shrieking emanating from the Shrieking Shack, puts all three together and comes up with the obvious answer. An answer she delivers to Severus in hushed tones midway through their first year.

            Severus had been researching immune system booster potions and pain-relief perk-ups in the library after Remus missed yet another day of class on account of a mysterious ailment, when Lily collared him and dragged his unresisting body toward the restricted section. (Sev had long learned not to resist when Lily dragged him places, it was never worth the fuss trying to escape when he’d always end up where she wanted him anyway.) Lily has now settled them just to the side of the restricted section, where no one will bother them for fear of setting off one of the books’ internal and external alarms.

            She folds her arms, looks him in the eye and says, “We need to help Remus.”

            Severus lifts one of the potions books still in his hands and she shakes her head.

            “No, we need to study werewolves first if we’re really going to understand him.”

            Severus stares at her, trying to digest what she’s just insinuated. “…You think Remus…is a werewolf.”

            She raises an eyebrow, “And you don’t?”

            It all makes a horrible kind of sense, really. Severus doesn’t understand how he didn’t guess it before. (Actually, he does understand, he understands that the wizarding world’s notion of what a werewolf is – a slavering, ferocious, deadly killing machine –  and what _Remus_ is – a shy, sharp-witted schoolboy with robes too big and too patchy for his small frame – don’t exactly line up perfectly.)

            “Okay, suppose I do – ”

            “- Because it’s the only logical explanation,” Lily supplies pertly.

            “What if he doesn’t want us to know?”

            “Then we have to show him we’re on his side no matter what,” she declares stoutly.

            And this is how Lily cons Severus into sneaking out to the Shrieking Shack on the next full moon.

            Which, for the record, is a bloody _awful_ plan.

…

            They almost die, and then Remus almost dies of embarrassment the next morning as he huddles in a bloody, shame-faced naked lump of eleven-year-old boy in the corner, wrapping Severus’ long coat around him for warmth and modesty as Lily patiently averts her eyes.

            “I suppose this is it, then,” he says, eyes boring metaphorical holes into the scarred wood of the Shack’s floor, “Now that you’ve seen the monster you’re going to leave.”

            “Of course not!” Lily asserts, then clarifies, “Unless it’s leaving to go get you some decent clothes because Sev’s coat cannot possibly be warm enough.”

            “And I’ll have to launder it now,” Severus grumbles. This little adventure has already involved part too much blood and nudity for his personal comfort.

            “But I could have killed you!” Remus insists, voice quavering on the edge of tears “I could have…I could have _bitten_ you…I could have made you _like me._ ” And now he’s crying in earnest and Severus wonders if it’s possible for a person to spontaneously apparate out of a situation if they’ve suffered too much secondhand embarrassment to remain a moment longer.

            He closes his eyes for one long, hopeful blink. Nope, still here. Still watching Remus cry, great heaving, jagged sobs that rip themselves out of his chest like vital organs being removed one by one. Still not sure what the hell he’s supposed to do in this situation.

            (Severus doesn’t ever know what to do when people cry. Until Lily he didn’t have any friends to comfort or observe the phenomenon in, and Lily almost never cries. And whenever his mother cried it was always completely, utterly silent, just streaks of silver water painting hopeless trails down her face as she continued whatever task his father had demanded of her this time, he hands shaking slightly all the while. She’d never asked for comfort and when he’d tried to give it to her she just shook off his fumbling hands and turned away.)

            Lily, thankfully, at least has some idea of what to do, or at least a helpful impulse, because she flings her arms around Remus in a tight hug that has him turning bright tomato red.

            “If you make us like you, you’ll just have made us smart, and brave, and strong, just like you and that’s nothing to be ashamed of!” Lily announces, arms tightening their hold until a breath wheezes out of Remus’ lungs and he looks on the verge of passing out.

            Severus shrugs, “What she said.” He doesn’t really have anything to add here, and he’s pretty sure if he does Remus might just pass out from the shock of it all. Instead his mind is already whirling away into the land of hypotheticals, pondering potions and his stalled attempts at helping Remus’ back when he thought the only thing wrong with his friend was a persistent flu.

…

            Sirius and James figure it out over the summer between their first and second years because while neither of them are stupid; they are purebloods and no pureblood wizard would think to look for a werewolf in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Which, according to Lily, is sort of ironic.

            Severus managed to convince the headmaster to allow him to leave for summer vacation late and return early, cutting his time trapped in that tumbledown wreck of a house with his father down to a minimum. He’s spent the past week or so leading up to the start of term buried in books in the library. This is where James and Sirius and their rather belated revelation find him after the feast.

            James, having all the subtlety of a drunken moose, startles Severus out of his reverie as only James can – by toppling over a stack of Severus’ painstakingly organized books an accidentally upending Severus’ inkwell in the process. Sirius then tries to clean up the ink spill using magic and only succeeds in making it turn increasingly violent shades of bright blue.

            “Sev, Severus,” he whisper-shouts.

            “Are you _drunk_?” Severus asks with all the dignity and poise a twelve-year-old running on very little sleep and an unknown amount of coffee (he’d had to start bribing the house elves when he moved to the library, but he was not going to live without coffee, even if it did stunt his growth or whatever it was muggle doctors said) can muster.

            “No, Sev, d’you think Remus is…a _werewolf_?” James really needs to learn how to whisper properly.

            Severus stares at him, wonders how his friend managed to survive to adulthood unassisted, is momentarily distracted by Sirius’ failed clean-up spell giving off a puff of sparkles and failing to clean itself up, then returns to staring at James, raising one eyebrow delicately. “I really couldn’t say,” he drawls and goes back to his reading.

            James and Sirius do manage to clean up the ink and are even good enough to reorganize Severus’ books for him, but he still doesn’t manage to get the glitter out of his hair for a week.

…

            James and Sirius’ response to their newfound knowledge is to latch onto Remus like a pair of barnacles. Where they had been close before, now they were dangerously inseparable. At least once a day some sort of magically aided mishap befell one or both of the dynamic duo as they apparently attempted to somehow fuse with Remus Lupin. In potions, Sirius didn’t pay enough attention to his own project and his and Lily’s cauldron erupted in some sort of greenish gray foam. In herbology James’ arm was swallowed nearly to the elbow by an enterprising plant while he was distracted fussing over Remus.

            It’s enough to make Severus’ eyes stick in a permanent rolled position if he wasn’t so _tired_ all the time. It turns out, living like a half-feral grad student is all well and good when there isn’t any school in session and there aren’t friends your own age around to drag you off to sit by the lake or watch their Quidditch games or challenge you to a round of chess. But between an unexpectedly packed social and scholastic schedule, Severus is feeling the strain.

            Admittedly, the proper response would probably be telling his friends what he’s up to instead of blowing them off to bury himself in research. But Severus never claimed to possess much in the way of social graces.

            And this is why, about halfway through the first term, Lily and the new James-Remus-Sirius fused organism decide to disrupt his painstakingly scheduled research time with a loud “SEVERUS – ” James pauses, apparently remembering he doesn’t know Severus’ middle name.

            “SEVERUS SNIVELOUS SNAPE,” Sirius finishes for him.

            “I think his middle name is Tobias,” offers Lily.

            “No, that’s just his father’s name,” Remus corrects her.

            Severus wonders if he should tell them he doesn’t have a middle name or just let them fight it out until they give him one. But, on further consideration, after Sirius’ offer it is clear this lot shouldn’t be trusted with naming anything with a pulse.

            “I hope to god none of you have to name children someday.”

            “I’m naming all of mine after Muggle automobiles just to upset my mother.” Sirius says with a straight face.

            James gapes at Sirius. “Seriously?”

            “Chevrolet Jaguar Black will be my firstborn.”

            “Dear god,” Lily groans, “That’s it; I’m naming all your children for you.”

            “Can I help?” Remus asks.

            “No, your family practically named you Wolfy McWolf, son of the Wolf, you have bad name-luck.”

            Remus looks a little affronted at first; but, after a moment of consideration, nods his acceptance with a resigned sigh.

            “Can you lot please get on with yelling at me for whatever slight I’ve done to you now?” Severus asks, eyes itching to go back to his notes. Or maybe he’s mildly allergic the bundles of herbs laid out in front of him. He’s already pretty sure they’ve given him a mild contact high – he could have sworn he heard Filch humming ‘Let it Be’ by the Beatles as he walked down the hall earlier.

            “YEAH!” James whirls around on him, finger already raised accusingly, “What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just tell your mate you’re fine with his – ”

            Lily kicks his shin. It is not a gentle kick.

            “Ow! Lily!”   
            “Ahem,” Sirius takes over, “Furry problem,” he eumphemizes. There are finger-quotes. Severus wonders if someone has shown him Muggle tv. Whoever that person is – LILY – needs to be stopped.

            “- and then avoid him all the time and generally be a tosser and a jerk!” James finishes.  Severus idly wonders what will happen when their brains eventually become one. Probably something unimaginably terrible.

            But then the words they’re speaking the way Remus is sort of shrinking into his worn school robes sinks in and he shakes his head. “What?”

            “Either stop being horrible to Remus or stop pretending to be our friend!” James says, eyes big and earnest and stupidly noble. Severus wants to tell him to brush his teeth and then chuck a glass of orange juice in his face.

            But he may also have a point.

            “What do you mean – pretending? Avoiding? What the bloody hell are you twittering on about?” Severus demands.

            “You haven’t exactly been around much this term,” Lily points out.

            “Yeah,” James seconds, “And you started slinking off to the library all the time when we told you about – ”

            “Subtlety and tact?” Lily asks archly and James subsides, shame-faced.

            Severus blinks, trades glances with Lily, and then risks resting his eyes on Remus, who really does look like he wants the floor to swallow him.

            “I know…” Remus begins, blinking wet eyes, “I know you knew a while ago, I mean, you figured it out, you and Lily, and you said you were alright with it, but then we had all summer for you to, you know, ponder things, and I understand if you’ve decided you’re not ok with it anymore. Just…just please don’t tell anyone about me. I’m really happy here and I don’t…I don’t want to go back to the way things were. I don’t want to go back to getting locked in the basement during the full moon. I don’t want – ”

            Severus cuts him off because Sirius has gone very pale and ill-looking at the thought of anyone locking Remus up for any reason, and James looks like he wants to start a crusade and Lily looks like she’s about to start doling out hugs and slaps in equal measure. “I know, and that’s why I’m looking for a cure.”

            Everyone sort of stops and stares at him.

            “A…a cure?” Remus whispers, “But…that’s impossible.”

            “I know,” Severus snarls, “That’s why I haven’t been sleeping much.”

            “Mate…” James starts and then peters off into awkward silence.

            “I think,” Severus begins, huffing, “I think there might be a way to control the wolf if not completely dispose of the change itself.  Werewolfism is involuntary and nothing like the process for creating animagi, but…if some wizards can engineer a way to create a complete physical change like that, and then accomplish the transformation repeatedly with no ill effects, no wand, no potions, no props, then…why couldn’t we retroactively put in some kind of safety for the werewolf change? Make it so they just turn into a wolf or at least stay sane during the full moon?”

            “Mate…that’s amazing and all…but we’re twelve. How the bloody hell are we supposed to figure out how to do that?” Sirius asks.

            Severus scowls at him, “I didn’t say you had to help me.”

            “Well of course we’re helping you,” James says as if there’s no question, “We help our friends. And you’ve obviously been doing the lion’s share of the friend-helping lately. So budge over and give me a book or something.”

            Severus’ mouth works useless for a moment. He probably looks like a stunned fish.

            Remus’ smile is quiet and tentative but when Severus casts his gaze in his direction, the other boy’s eyes are shining.

            “Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you, thank you.”

            “I haven’t done anything yet,” Severus says, uncomfortable with all this attention.

            “You _tried_ ,” Remus says, like that means everything in the world.

            And, Severus supposes, in a way, it sort of does.

            “Alright, all of you settle down,” Lily instructs, “We’re very lucky it’s so late and no one’s in the library but us or we’d definitely have a secrecy problem. Sev, tell us how we can help you, and then James and Sirius can tell you their idea.”

            “Their idea?” Severus asks.

            James and Sirius light up; Remus looks cautiously pleased. “We’re going to become animagi,” James announces.

            Severus stares at him, “We’re _twelve._ How do you expect to do _that_?”

            “Hey, if you can reinvent potions, we can turn into animals,” Sirius argues, “And we figure it’ll take some time.”

            “Three years is my best guess,” James says generously.

            _“Three years_?” Severus squawks, “We’ll only be _fifteen_.”

            “Well, yeah,” James shrugs, “We have to get it done while we’re still at Hogwarts. The whole point is giving Mooney here some animal friends so he’s not alone. But, you know, big, intimidating animal friends he can’t maim, kill, or transform.”

            Severus sighs, “You’ll need someone small enough to get you in an out of places undetected.”

            “Huh. Do you want in on it too?” James offers.

            Severus throws up his hands, “Fine, whatever. You figure out how to turn us into animals and I’ll reinvent a whole field of study.”

            “That’s the spirit,” James grins, “Now, what in the hell am I looking at in this book?” 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I remember correctly, wolfsbane potion did not exist yet when the Marauders were in school and I figure if Half-Blood-Prince-Genius-Potions-Student-I-Invent-Spells-for-Funsies Severus Snape was friends with a werewolf...that shit would get invented FAST. Also, Hermione brewed polyjuice potion at age 12 so clearly freakishly gifted 12 year olds are HP canon already.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title from 'Good Old Days' by Macklemore and Kesha, because I love Kesha and I saw her in concert last Hallow-Weekend and it was Magical.


End file.
